NAtM2: War at the Smithsonian
by Yuan Mi
Summary: After the "break-in" at the Smithsonian, fighting broke out between the museum's security forces and its still-living exhibits. So how is a meek Peter Weiss supposed to dissuade Al Capone, Napoleon, and Ivan the Terrible from all-out war? NAtM2 continued
1. Al Pacino?

I was checking out a lot of the other Al Capone Night at the Museum fan fictions, and I was a bit disappointed to find they were all romance. Well, here's a non-romance fan fiction will Al Capone playing a large part in it, unlike many others. Also, I really wanted to portray the kind of man Al Capone really was, not some badass with no manners and depended on violence and fear to get what he wanted. He was a good man, and hopefully you can see that as the story progresses.

It takes place a bit after the movie, and I did a lot of research to make this fan fiction. I feel it's a bit lacking in detail and action, so I hope it's still okay, and not too long or anything. Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it, and it would be helpful is you left some constructive criticism, or suggestions. I put some facts at the bottom in case you get confused at any time in the story. If you can't your answer there, feel free to ask me about it!

* * *

One night, slouched on the couch and flipping the channels on the television, Peter Weiss abruptly stopped on one particular news channel, which had a special about the recent Smithsonian break-in. Apparently, many of the glass cases in the Air and Space building had been broken. The miniature planes that were in them were misplaced, the Wright Flyer was found parked outside of the exhibit, and scorch marks were found on the floor around where the rockets were located. In the art section, some of the paintings had been altered, and the sculptures were apparently in different positions. In the underground archives, a number of the boxes had been broken open and the objects within had also been misplaced. One of them was not found, a model of a large octopus. Many other exhibits had been changed as well.

"Smithsonian security stated they were outraged that this had all occurred so easily and that the culprit has not yet been found. As of yet, there are no suspects as to who did it," the reporter stated. "For now, the museum was declared temporarily closed to fix the damages, and security has been improved drastically, especially the number of night guards."

Peter frowned. It was a bit scary, hearing about a museum so close to his own home being broken into so easily. Feeling a bit paranoid, he wrapped a blanket around himself and locked the window closest to him. He put his forehead to the glass and looked out at the lights of the surrounding buildings.

Life was pretty boring, and for a second, he thought how much fun that person must have had, being able to walk around in a huge museum like that all by himself, being able to interact with all the exhibits. Realizing what he was thinking, he shook his head. That kind of thing was a crime! He sighed and closed the curtain.

Well, at least some family friends were staying over, so he wasn't _too_ bored. His little "cousin" was a nice kid, and "Uncle" Larry, a close friend of Dad's, was a pretty funny guy. Plus, they kept him company while his parents were out of town on their business trip in Europe, which was pretty often. Thus, they were already pretty well acquainted.

He went down to the kitchen, figuring dinner must've been ready about then. Uncle Larry didn't cook much, so it was probably takeout tonight. Maybe KFC. He _did _point it out when he drove past it to drop Peter off at school.

When he reached the kitchen, he was surprised to find it empty. Was it his night to cook dinner or something? But no, when he turned, he noticed a note on the fridge. Apparently, Larry had a "work-related emergency", so he had to leave the house. His regular job was as a night guard for a museum over in New York, now that he'd sold his company; so… what—was he going to fly all the way there? Maybe it had something to do with another museum in the area. A thought hit him. The Smithsonian?

Nick came down the stairs, looking around. "Huh? Where's Dad?" Peter shrugged and took down the note from the fridge and let him see it. The younger boy looked a bit troubled, and after rereading it the second time, he asked to borrow the phone. Peter quickly complied, asking "Why? It's just work, right? How bad could it be?"

"Oh, it's _really_ bad. _Trust me._" He said, shaking his head as he dialed the number. "Just a second," he muttered when phone began ringing. "Hello? Dad? Yeah, Pete and me saw the note on you left… yeah, okay…" His eyebrows furrowed and he made a small frown. "Yeah, see you later. Bye." Nick hung up the phone and looked up at Peter. "We got to get to the Smithsonian. It's close, right? And you can drive, right?"

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Uh, well, only during daylight hours with an adult present in the car—" He paused, noticing the panicked look on the boy's face. "—You know what? Fine. But don't tell my parents, alright?" Nick smiled up at him and they rushed out of the house, on their way to the largest museum in the world.

They got to the museum without being pulled over, although Nick did complain about feeling a bit nauseous. Surprisingly, security wasn't as tight as Peter had expected. Still, he decided not to be too cocky, so the two still tried to walk in a bit more inconspicuously, and successfully remained unnoticed. According to Nick, Uncle Larry was in the Hall of Mammals.

"What's he doing in this museum, anyway?" Peter couldn't help but to ask.

"Well," Nick looked a little nervous. "Have you heard about that recent break-in here?" Peter nodded, puzzled as to how it was connected to Larry. "We were here when it happened. And… it wasn't some criminal who moved all those sculptures and stuff. In the Museum of Natural History back in New York, there's this tablet. You see, it brings the exhibits to life at night. And for a while, some of the exhibits there were brought here. One of them stole the tablet without our noticing, and so this whole museum came to life that night. Apparently, it hasn't gone back to normal since then. Every night, they wake up here, even without the tablet."

Peter was confounded. Was this really true? Nick was just a kid, after all, so maybe his imagination was getting the best of him? But—Peter had known Nick since the kid was a baby—and not once had he been known to lie. Well, he decided that he'd see for himself when they reached the Natural History portion of the museum, where the Hall of Mammals was located.

When they entered, it was chaos. Frightened security guards had their guns and/or various weapons out and were fighting the exhibits that had come to life, completely unaware of how this was all possible. All doubt Peter previously had in his little cousin flew out of his mind immediately, and he looked down at Nick. The boy nodded, confirming this was all real and not a dream. "Well. Let's try to find your dad, Nick." He took the boy's hand and they avoided all the battles, and often just narrowly avoiding an encounter with a security guard, who would be distracted by one of the exhibits-come-to-life.

Finally, the duo reached the Hall of Mammals without getting separated, but only found more chaos at their destination. Security guards were fighting exhibits of all kind, even some that had not belonged in this part of the museum. The guards were severely outnumbered, and most of them were already retreating. Suddenly, Peter's arm was grabbed, causing him to jump.

"Relax, relax, it's just me," Larry said. The two embraced him tightly, terrified of the whole ordeal. When they let go, he bent down to eye level and, while occasionally glancing at the fighting mob, calmly said "Okay, guys. The whole museum's in an all-out war with the security. Obviously, there are some individuals here who don't like being told what to do, and there are a couple major groups fighting here. Again, obviously—" He paused, dodging a rampaging elephant, pulling the younger two to the side and more out of the way. "Obviously, one of the groups is the security forces. The others are led by some people who may sound pretty familiar: Napoleon Bonaparte, Ivan the Terrible, and Al Capone. I know…" His voice cracked. "I know it's all really sudden, but I want us to each try and convince a group to stop fighting, and then hopefully we can then take care of the whole… security force problem. It'll be dangerous, but it has to be done."

"Uncle Larry, you can't really expect us to stop a war by ourselves," Peter said, his face pale and his mind spinning.

He smiled meekly at him. "We're not alone. There's a neutral fighting force in the museum, too, who just want peace here. You'll find them along the way." He put a hand on each of the kids' shoulders and looked into their eyes, and shined another smile, this time more confident. "Now, we don't have much time left… Good luck, you two. Use your cellphones to contact one another if you have to."

The three nodded, and though somewhat reluctantly, from there went their separate ways.

"Okay, so all I have to do is find one of those dangerous people and… stop them." Peter gulped, not so completely sure he could pull it off without much knowledge of who his allies were, much less who his enemies looked like.

After running for what seemed to be an hour, he found himself running through another exhibit, but here there was considerably less fighting. Deciding to stay out of the way of it all, Peter hid behind a pillar and spotted a sign that stated that he was currently in the Janet Annenberg Hooker Hall of Geology, Gems, and Minerals. Out of nowhere, someone grabbed his arm roughly, followed by a shouting of "Hey, Boss! We got a human here!" Peter turned around, seeing a black-and-white man dressed in a mafia-like suit and a fedora. Behind him, a rather important-looking man emerged, who also had the same lack of color as the man with the grip on his arm. The "boss" wore pinstripes and had a face that seemed to be in a permanent scowl, further intensified by the three scars on the left side of his face and his hard, ice cold eyes.

"Who is this kid?" he asked, his eyes never leaving Peter.

"I dunno, boss, I just found him tryin' to hide here."

Despite feeling the slightest urge to correct the gangster on the fact that he wasn't a kid, Peter bit his tongue. This person was probably one of those leaders Uncle Larry had mentioned, and he had to stay on his good side.

"Kid, what's your name? Let's hear it," the boss said to him.

"Peter Weiss," he squeaked, finding himself unable to talk properly.

"Weiss? Peter _Weiss?_" His face darkened and he then held up his gun and pointed it toward him. "You're not one of O'Banion's boys, are you?"

"Uh-ohh-aah, ah-- no, _no_!" Peter stuttered, his eyes glued on the Tommy gun fixed at him. _Darn my last name, _Peter thought to himself,_ I just want to get out of here with my life, and my stupid last name might cost me that. _"I-I'm just here to talk, you guys… your fighting is all wrong. I'm just here to tell you guys that, err, Mister… Pacino."

"Pacino? I don't know any Pacino. I'm Al Capone, and these are my boys," he said, gesturing toward the men standing behind him. "Anyway, kid, I don't know who you are, but you'd better get home safe while you can, because I'm not going to stop fighting until that short French guy and that guy from Moscow, and those humans beat it." The group of black-and-white men standing behind him shouted some words of agreement accompanied by some raising of their guns.

"P-please, Mr. Capone!" Peter pleaded, his eyes still glued on the Tommy gun. _Is it hot in here or what? _"You see, uh, sir—If you just stop fighting, then we can convince the other two—that… short French guy and the guy from Moscow—to stop fighting, too… Then we can all work together to fight the, uh, humans." Peter was convinced the temperature in the museum was much too high, by now his forehead was beaded with sweat and his mouth felt dry.

"That's just it! We already tried to negotiate with them, but they're a pretty stubborn bunch, y'know?" He was to about to say more, but was interrupted by the shouting from one of his boys.

"Boss! Bad news!"

"Gallucio! What's eatin' you?" Capone asked, turning to face him.

"The dinosaurs—" He paused to catch his breath—"They've sided with the French! They're comin' this way _now_!"

"Those double-crossers!" Capone growled, apparently talking about the dinosaurs. "Come on, boys! It's time to get a wiggle on!" He motioned toward the direction of the dinosaurs, and they all left, including the one who'd been grabbing Peter's arm. Their boss stayed behind, however, seemingly sizing up the boy. "Well, kid, I don't really want you to get involved, especially seein' how you don't exactly look like a bimbo—" Peter smiled, delighted at what he mistaken for a compliment. Capone raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "—but come along. I'll show you just the kind of guys we're up against, and why I can't let them take over this turf."

He went ahead, following his boys without looking back. "Does that mean you trust me, now?" Peter asked, but was not heard. Hesitantly, he got up and ran after the mobsters.

In the next room, a battle raged on between the towering dinosaurs and the comparably small, but overconfidently looking American gangsters. As if that wasn't already bad enough, overpowering thumping sounds came from the other room. It was a T-rex, and seated on it'\s back was—Guess who? None other than Napoleon Bonaparte, holding his sword up high and clearly enjoying his "seat" of power.

* * *

This may help you out a bit if you didn't understand some parts of the fan fiction:

"Pacino? Capone? How could you get the two mixed up?" Well, I always got them mixed up, so I figured it would be pretty cool to share that in this, and maybe see if anyone else ever had the same mistake.

"What's up with Capone getting all snarly when Peter stated his last name?" Well, after doing some research on Capone, one of his rivals was "O'Banion", and one of his closest associates and successors went by the name "Hymie Weiss".

"I don't get it. How, when was Capone saying that Peter didn't "exactly look like a bimbo", was it not a compliment?" Well, I looked up a lot of 20's slang for this fanfiction, and bimbo had meant "tough guy". Nowadays, it's not a very positive comment. Thus the confusion between the two characters.


	2. Kidnapped by a Girl

Sequel... Well this one definitely has more action in it, but less Capone, for sure. But he'll be coming back. Um, well if you don't understand any of these words feel free to ask me. Please Read and Enjoy (R&E) :) Please help me to improve my writing by leaving some reviews with some constructive criticism...? Or if you just liked it, thanks.

I don't own the movie, or any of the canon characters. Only the originals and the story.

* * *

Peter could identify the uniformed, stout man immediately. "Who's short now, colorless little _homme_?" Napoleon mocked as the dinosaur he rode made several gangsters fly with one swing of its tail. Peter, helpless, noticed a shotgun on the ground and quickly scrambled towards it. However, a brontosaurus had stomped right in between him and the gun, standing on its back legs and ready to stomp on an unconscious gangster. Peter cursed under his breath and, squeezing his eyes, dived for the gun and successfully grabbed it. He then rolled onto his back and hastily took aim at the belly of the dinosaur, his palms feeling sweaty. When he pulled the trigger, the beast made a loud, pained sound as it was hit and fell to the ground. Capone, who was now helping drag the unconscious man to a safer place, shouted "Now you're on the trolley, kid!"

Peter couldn't help to grin and rushed over to Capone, helping him bring the man over to the side. The gangster then flashed him a smile and ran off to aid the rest of his men. Peter got up to join him, but paused, remembering he was here to _stop_ the fighting, not _join in._ So he set the shotgun down beside the unconscious man and ran into the battlefield, hoping to find one of those "neutral" fighting forces, or Larry or Nick. However, his plans were stopped short by a velociraptor who noticed him, and had then begun to chase after him. Unfortunately, despite having straight A's in gym class, Peter could not outrun a dinosaur, and it had swiftly caught up to him. He could feel its breath on the back of his neck, and its jaws had almost closed on his skull when he heard a familiar voice call out his name.

"Duck!" the voice yelled, but Peter had not reacted fast enough. A woman swung from a rope and kicked the dinosaur in the back of its head, which smashed right into Peter, and they both fell to the ground. Luckily, it was knocked out and he didn't have to worry about it eating his face while it was on top of him. He pushed it aside and sat up, a bit shaken. Nick, the familiar voice from before, ran up and embraced Peter. He patted the boy's head and tried to thank him, but his voice didn't come out. He tried to then clear his throat to speak, but someone beat him to it.

"Well, kid, you're amazing. In… a lot of ways, really." Peter looked up at the speaker, finding that the owner of the bold, feminine voice was a red-headed lady in leather (the pants appeared quite uncomfortably tight, actually), but she was unlike anyone else. She radiated pride, and stood proudly, her hands on her hips and her legs slightly apart. She extended a hand to him and helped him up.

"Thank you, Miss…?"

"That's Earhart. Amelia Earhart. Feel free to just call me Amelia, kid." A gangster stumbled backwards into Amelia, and she helped push him right back into battle. "There you go," she said, then directing her gaze toward Peter. "Anyway, it's not safe here. Let's get the two of you to the others." She searched the crowd for a moment, then finding what she was looking for. Waltzing up to a guard was just punched in a way so that he was facing her, she waved a small "hello" to him and took his security card, then punching him in the jaw and knocking him to the ground. The medieval knight that was originally fighting him was shocked, but then got over it and released a wolf-whistle, impressed.

Peter was beginning to have the impression that what the exhibits learned from the tourists wasn't always good. Amelia, card in hand, walked past the two boys with a smirk, saying "Come on, boys." The two followed her to a door that said "Employees Only" in large capital letters. She swiped the card and the door clicked. Nick pushed the door open and the three entered the room. From there, they followed a long case of stairs leading down, decorated by the occasional glowing "Exit" sign that hung above most of the doors.

After going down countless flights, Amelia stopped and opened one of the doors labeled "Federal Archives". Once again, she swiped the card and gained access into the room. Inside was a hospital for the wounded, where friend and enemy alike were being treated. People from all different times were helping out here, and they all seemed to be led by a woman wearing a dress from the 1800's. She seemed to not mind the bloodstains on her clothes, and was working hard applying gauze to and bandaging a guard's leg. She wiped her brow and looked up, smiling when she saw the three.

"Oh, welcome back! It's so good to know three young souls like you could come here without having to be treated. Are you… going to stay here?" She looked worried, clearly not liking the idea of children going out into a battle zone like that.

"That's right," Amelia declared. "We have to. We're just here to call on some friends, anyway." Clara looked worried, but the smile remained. She curtsied lightly and walked off to help the other injured. The female pilot walked on, leading the boys behind a shelf. There, several exhibits were discussing battle plans. They looked up when they heard the footsteps, and seeing Amelia, they grinned and one of them said "Ah, Amelia! Just the face we wanted to see. Been having a bit of trouble with these battle plans, you know."

She smiled back and said "I figured." Amelia turned to the boys and introduced the other exhibits to them. "Boys, meet General George Armstrong Custer," she signaled to the man who had first spoken. "And Einstein... Einstein, and Einstein." Three bobble-headed Einsteins looked up at the boys and waved, all saying hello at once. "Oh? Where's Larry?"

The General pointed down to the map that they were making their plans on, and just said "He followed our original plans. Just try and convince the leaders of the museum fighting groups. He probably went in the direction of Ivan, who's located somewhere in Air and Space."

Looking a bit disappointed, Amelia bit her lip and said "I see…" However, she quickly reverted to her old self. "Well then, what's the plan now?"

One of the Einsteins bobbled and explained "We believe we found a shortcut to get to the Air and Space. _Somebody_ has to get there, Larry can't handle Ivan on his own. Apparently, there are a lot of other people there too, but we don't know if they're friend or enemy." He shrugged and pointed at the shortcut circled in pen. Peter took a closer look at the circled portion of the map. He made a strange face and said "But all this is is a circled arrow pointing from the Natural History Museum to the Air and Space Museum, which a bunch of algebra written next to it, and a sentence written in Sharpie saying 'Shoot thru cannon'."

"Well, I could only think of one thing—that's my idea in the Sharpie, ain't it a good one?—and Albert was sure he could find a way to do it using math. We're not exactly done working out the, uh, kinks yet," General Custer chuckled meekly.

"This is pointless," Amelia said. "I'm going after Larry without the need for a cannon or math."

"I'm with you!" Nick said, grabbing her arm. General Custer stood up, nodding his head. "Agreed!" Peter looked around, and just timidly said "Well, I guess I'm going with you…"

A loud yelling was heard from behind the shelf, where the makeshift hospital was. Nick and Peter looked at each other, and ran off toward the direction of the shouting, followed closely by Custer and Amelia.

"Don't come any closer!!" A guard yelled, his arm and head bandaged and one leg in a splint. He held up a gun and was slowly making his way toward the door to the stairs.

"Your injuries aren't healed yet! Please, just lie dow—"

"_Stop TALKING!!_" The guard yelled, probably overwhelmed. Clara looked angry and stomped her foot. "You must lie down! Otherwise, your fracture will turn into a broken bone and the bleeding will worsen!" The guard kept his gun fixed on her, his eyes wide and grimacing. However, a sculpture that Peter could only identify as the Thinker had hit the side of his neck and knocked him to the floor unconscious. He took the gun and crushed it in his huge hand as Clara and a sculpture picked the man up and placed him on a bed.

Amelia smiled and placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. "See, our fighting force may not be as large as all the others, but we do have some pretty strong characters here." He smiled weakly. "R-right… never doubted it."

The four walked past the people crowded around the Thinker, who were showering him with compliments, and toward the stairway. Peter closed the door as the other went up to the next floor. "Give me a moment," he'd said before the others ascended. "I'll meet you in Air and Space." He sighed deeply as he stood in the dark, the exit sign being the only source of light. Suddenly, its glow went out and Peter could see nothing. He felt his way toward the exit door, but had bumped into a tall object.

'_This wasn't here before,_' Peter thought to himself. Suddenly, strong arms grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, then wrapping around him tightly. A dagger was held up to his throat and "Resist and die," was whispered in his ear, the voice sounding definitely feminine. By now, all color in Peter's face had drained away. His hands were then tied behind his back and he was led up the stairway, tripping every once in a while due to the total darkness.

It was a long time until Peter was led to a door leading away from the staircase. He squinted at the unfamiliar bright lights, and was pushed roughly to his right. When turning a corner, he stole a look at his captor, seeing it was a serious-looking female Native American. When Peter was able to see normally again, the older female led him around a final corner, where Napoleon was sitting as comfortably as one could be on a metal bench, his T-rex standing by his side. The Frenchman looked up, noticing the woman and her hostage. He smirked, quite evilly.

"Oh, _merci_, for bringing the boy to me." Napoleon looked from her to Peter, speaking with a heavy French accent. "I did notice you and that uncivilized one Capone did seem to be quite close—you know, back at the battle." He puffed out his chest and began to pace. "Now, when my army finally arrives, I will use you as bait to capture him and force him to surrender. A good plan, no?"

"Oh—oh, no—we aren't close at all… In fact, I'd rather just stay out of this little feud between you and Capone. Yeah, you see, I think fighting's wrong."

"Says the one who shot one of my beasts to death in one shot. If Capone has someone as good a shot as you on his side, he'll definitely come for you," Napoleon said, unimpressed by Peter's little peace speech.

"Actuaalllyy, I'm trying to _stop_ you from fighting, because then you all could focus on fighting the _security guards_," Peter shrugged, with a weak smile.

"The war means nothing," the Native American said abruptly from behind him. "You said you would give me my people back if I got you the boy." She pushed Peter toward the Frenchman. "Where are they?"

"Patience, patience, woman. That wasn't the deal. You will also fight with me to defeat Capone, and then you should have your people back. Unless… you are not afraid of what my men might do to them?" She snarled at this but kept her mouth shut. "And now, if you would so kindly go to the side and stop bothering me, I have a battle to prepare for." He strode away as the Native American led Peter to the side, then tying him to a pipe. Peter felt a bit light-headed as he saw her take out her dagger.

She noticed the paleness of his face and chuckled lightly. "No, I am not going to hurt you. Just to be safe. You never know with him," she then directed her gaze to Napoleon, which slowly then turned into a glare of burning hatred.

"How did it happen?" Peter asked. The female turned to him with a questioning look. "Oh—I mean, how did he take your people? Why?" She looked at the ground and exhaled deeply. Several moments passed by, each passing second causing Peter to become more and more uncomfortable. Finally, she spoke.

"Several nights ago, my people and I came to life. Same with the rest of the museum. We accepted this and lived in peace, and kept to ourselves. We did not know why, but one day one of the Frenchman's soldiers came and captured us to make us part of their army. My father, the chief of our tribe, was killed when he tried to protect a pregnant mother from being hit. That Napoleon took our most able warriors and me and forced us to fight for him. He said or else he would hurt my people." She looked forlornly at Peter, whose face was twisted with sorrow. "I am the chief now. All my brothers have died in battle. I do not know where my younger sisters and brothers are. But I must protect them. So I had to capture you."

Peter's stomach began to hurt. Here he was, being a huge wimp while plenty of lives were at stake. Even if they weren't made of flesh and blood, he still felt immense guilt. "That's alright. We just… have to get through this safe. So no one'll get hurt." She smiled at him, but the pain was still visible on her face. "I thank you." She extended her hand and said "My name is Winona."

Peter shook her hand, "Peter." They returned to sitting in silence, but this time it felt more safe than uncomfortable. Eventually, the boy drifted off to sleep. As soon as she could tell he was sleeping deeply, she stood up quietly, then walking off, and leaving him on his own.

* * *

I hope you like it... Just to let you know, this isn't leading to a romance. Just to clear that up, is all. And yeah, Winona's story is pretty cliche but it makes sense... I guess. Ah, right-- thanks for reading. :) Third one'll have more action for sure, and more Capone(because he's just so awesome ;) ). Please look forward to it.


	3. Hey, Joe Brooks!

Ah... next chapter! I felt it was a bit rushed, but.... hope you like it, R&E :) Feels like forever since the last update.

* * *

When Peter finally came to, he was sprawled out across the hard, cold marble tiling of the floor. He sat up and leaned his head against a wall, and then saw the rope tied around his wrists.

_Right_, he remembered, _I'm being held captive by a power-hungry Frenchman._ He looked around and couldn't find Winona; the only people in sight were Napoleon and another man in a matching uniform, assumed to be one of his men. They were conversing swiftly in French, and were too deeply immersed in the conversation to take any notice of the prisoner.

Taking advantage of the situation and of the little energy he had left, he began to attempt to gnaw through the thick ropes that bound his hands together. Only when a shadow loomed over his head had he realized he had been caught in the act. Only when the person standing before him had spoken softly had he stopped trying to escape and looked up.

"Son," the soft voice murmured in an unidentifiable but definite accent, "it would be best if you did not try and escape. You do not want to get hurt." That last part had a twinge of hurt mixed into it, Peter could hear it well. The boy complied and sat normally, obediently facing forward, no longer facing the man with the soft voice, as much as he'd wanted to.

The man glanced at Napoleon, and seeing the Frenchman had not noticed the event that had occurred, he exhaled, relieved. He got down and sat against the wall, beside Peter. The boy mustered up his courage and looked to his left, examining the stranger. He was a dark-skinned man, dressed in tattered clothing. The man had a kind face, but it was as if he had no soul, like he gave up on his dreams. There was no life in his pitch black eyes. Peter could sense this man was not unlike himself, he was afraid, but deep down something twitched, telling him to do something, to take action. However, physically he could not comply with the messages sent to him by his brain. This man was whipped, a literal slave, and completely loyal.

The man turned and examined Peter, taking in his image as the boy did to him. He looked back to the ground and said, almost whispering, "I'm sorry, I cannot release you. There is no other choice, otherwise, he will…" The man gulped and shook his head slightly.

"You're _bigger_ than him," Peter replied, immediately feeling foolish for saying something as obvious as that.

"Mr. Bonaparte is my new master. Ever since I could walk, I have been a slave. What would I do without a master? What good is a slave without a job to do?" Peter thought hard for a reply, but couldn't think of anything worth saying.

"What's your name?" the boy settled with asking a simple question.

"Moses."

"Oh. I'm Peter. I'd shake your hand, but…" He raised his bound wrists. "Yeah." Moses looked at the rope with his blank eyes, and cringed a bit. Hoping to lighten the mood a bit, Peter brought up what first came to his mind.

"Do you know Winona, Moses?"

"I know of her, yes. She is kind, and she thinks freely and bravely. Inspiring, is it not?" Peter smiled and nodded. She truly was something else, all that bravery and wonder behind such a fragile-looking face.

It had become louder in the background as they'd been speaking, Peter had noticed. He looked over his shoulder and saw exhibits of all kinds arriving into the room, standing at attention before Napoleon. Just as everyone stopped filing into the room and were all still, Napoleon began pacing back and forth, looking at his troops. He stopped abruptly, looking moderately pleased.

"Men," he announced, "We have been pushed around for too long. We will revolt and destroy all enemies that stand in our way! Now is the time to fight, and we shall take this museum to be ours!" He unsheathed his sword and raised it above his head as his troops roared with agreement. "Now, men, let's—"

"Hey!" A loud hollering interrupted Napoleon's battle speech. The Frenchman looked back, and when he did, he seemed very displeased. A mob of security guards stood opposite of them, guns at the ready. Napoleon's troops greatly outnumbered the guards, and were in some cases more lethal—in his group were two or three dinosaurs, an army unit of French military men, several other muscular slaves like Moses, and a few bronze statues.

The guards, apparently not considering the fact that the exhibits had feelings of their own and were mostly once real people, mercilessly shot their guns. At the first shot, the bronze statues stepped in front of the other troops, every once in a while gaining a dent or causing a bullet to ricochet. The small army of exhibits slowly marched forward, staying on the defensive: the statues remaining in the front, and the French soldiers shot through the spaces between them. Those of who could not attack long-range stayed in the back.

"Chaarge!" Napoleon shouted, pointing his sword in the direction of the enemy. The dinosaurs complied and ran around the shield of statues, charging at the guards. At the sight of them, the men panicked and retreated, some shouting into walkie-talkies.

When it was thought that the guards were gone, an even larger force of guards appeared through the only other open entrance, rendering Napoleon and his men surrounded, what with even more guards in the neighboring room. Some of the soldiers were shot down and panic rose, and both sides were now mixed in a large mob.

Moses, to Peter's surprise, undid the rope that bounded the boy. Maybe he wasn't as completely lifeless as Peter thought.

"Now's the best time to run, if ever. Quickly now," the man put his hand on the boy's shoulder and led him through the crowd. However, not long after this, in the middle of the crowd, a hand fiercely grabbed Moses by the shoulder and spun him around. A French soldier then proceeded to punch Moses in the face, causing him to land on the floor.

"Traitor!" he spat, with fire in his eyes. Moses tried to get back up, but was kicked in the stomach. The man then took Peter roughly by the upper arm and pulled him behind, marching away. Strangely, he was stopped. Moses grabbed the soldier by the ankle and pulled him down, making him fall on his face. The slave got up quickly and pulled Peter further into the crowd, away from the soldier.

Moses held his side, Peter noticed, where the soldier had previously kicked him. The boy had opened his mouth to thank him, but was distracted by the sudden appearance of a raged dinosaur. Blood spurted from one of its limbs; it seems it was shot there in a tender area. The beast roared in pain and flailed about, its tail whipping about, hitting both ally and enemy. The duo was surrounded on one side by clashing forces and on the other by a rapidly approaching, out-of-control dinosaur.

Peter felt Moses' grip tighten and saw the man's jaw stiffen. He himself became pale and he desperately searched the crowd for any possible way to get out. As he searched until his head spun, a hand grabbed his free hand and pulled him, which in turn pulled Moses behind him.

_The soldier!_ Peter thought, panicked, as he was pulled into the mob, away from the dinosaur, jumping over injured and ducking beneath punches. He tried to pull away from the soldier's grasp, but to no avail. After about half a minute, they got out of the crowd, and Peter took what seemed like his first deep breath in hours. Peter tried to get the soldier off of him.

"Let me go," Peter said as he struggled. "Stop it!" To his surprise, the hand let go, and only until then did the boy look up at the soldier. Except it wasn't the soldier.

"Winona!" She smiled as Peter gasped in shock and happiness. Moses, who had been unable to keep his grip on the boy as they were dragged through the crowd, stumbled out of the mob. He noticed Winona and gave her a quick nod.

"I found my family," she ecstatically said. "They are located not too far from here. I will need your assistance, Peter. Possibly you as well, Moses." She turned and ran, the other two following behind.

Meanwhile, the fighting mob grew larger as each side called for more reinforcements. The trio tried to go around the fighting groups, but it was almost impossible with all the chaos. So instead, they charged straight through, each on their own. Peter was just about to reach the other side of the room as he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt. _Why me? Seriously…_ he cried to himself in his mind, as he was stopped short. Winona and Moses were just ahead of him, but were too busy dodging the brawlers to pay him any mind.

Peter was spun around, and he faced a rather hefty security guard who looked him up and down.

"Hey, you're human!" the man exclaimed. "What're you doing here…You're just a kid! We're going to get you out of here, don't worry about a thing." He reached for his walkie-talkie, but Peter had already had enough of being captured by various parties by now. Peter punched the man square in the jaw, temporarily stunning the man. The boy's hand was unexpectedly in pain—it was the first time he'd punched a person—but his panic overcame that. He ran off and disappeared into the crowd before the guard could catch him again.

_Sorry, sorry, sorry…_ The words echoed in Peter's mind as he ran through the crowd. _I know you meant well, but I have bigger problems right now! _Apologies began to echo in his mind again until he reached the other side of the room. There, Winona was waiting with Moses, looking at a keypad that apparently opened a large, important looking door.

The ever-so popular "Staff Only" sign was on the door, but no "Exit" sign was above it, Peter had bitterly noticed.

"I do not quite understand the 'machines' of your time. But my family is behind this door. You can open this?" Winona knocked on the steel door, the sound echoing in Peter's ears. He was about to reply, but a man knocked into his back, causing him to almost fall flat on his face. Peter turned around and was utterly shocked—the fighting crowd had nearly doubled in size from the last time he'd gotten a good look at it. Here and there, he could spot some of fighters of the neutral party. To the left, a large balloon animal stepped on anything that wasn't sharp enough to pop him, and the Thinker was doing anything but thinking; he was recklessly flipping the smaller humans and exhibits, and seemed to be having fun. To the right, Peter spotted a pride of lions ambushing an-already injured dinosaur.

_Wait—what party do the lions belong to? They're not part of ours, _he thought frantically in his mind. Still, no one in sight could possibly help him unlock this monstrosity of a door. If only he'd brought one of the Einsteins along with him!

"So- sorry… This kind of stuff is too complicated for me." Peter fixed his gaze on the ground. "If only—"

"Hey, Joe Brooks*!" Peter spun around at the familiar voice. It was exactly who'd he'd been wanting to see. "We've been looking for you everywhere, kid! Where'd you run off to?"

Al Capone toted his Tommy gun, walking calmly toward Peter with open arms. He walked up and put his hands on the boy's shoulders, smiling like crazy. It was unnerving to see Capone smile so happily, but still nice to see a familiar face.

"Oh, golly, kid. I thought you'd been iced or something. Good to know that's not it though," Capone managed to smile. He looked around, releasing Peter from his grip. "We got to get you out of here." Meanwhile, Winona and Moses looked at the man incredulously, their eyes fixed on him and his threatening looking gun. Winona took her eyes off of the man, then fixing her gaze upon Peter.

"Go." Her eyes were rather empty, and her tone of voice was quite cold. Peter was taken aback by a sudden feeling of guilt. Of course, Winona felt like she was being betrayed. He shook his head at her, smiling faintly, and then turning to Capone.

"I've got to help my friend, first. Her family's in there," Peter pointed at the steel door. Capone laughed lightly, and turned around, aiming his gun into the crowd.

"Tell everyone in there to back away from the door! Then get the hell away from here," Capone said. Surprised at Capone's confidence, Peter told the people behind the door to back away, and ran off to the side of the room with Moses and Winona.

Capone shot into the crowd, standing in front of the steel wall, creating a roaring sound from the T-rex. _Why would he shoot at that…monster?!_, Peter screamed in his head, mouth agape as it rammed its way through the mob, ready to headbutt Capone. When it was about ten yards from him, Capone turned and ran to the left, where the three waited for him. As Peter realized his plan, the T-rex turned sharply before hitting the door, chasing after the gangster. _This wasn't part of the plan, was it?_

"_Ruuun!_" Capone hollered as the dinosaur chased after them. The man grabbed Peter by the collar, Moses following closely behind. However, Winona stayed behind—the T-rex had swung its tail into the wall beside the door, creating a gaping hole leading into the closed off room. Peter looked back just in time to see Winona helping a younger boy out from the hole, followed by other members of her family.

Meanwhile, Peter, Capone, and Moses were being chased by a huge, prehistoric beast. _This night just isn't going to end the way I want it, is it?_

* * *

Sorry, it ended at an awkward/weird part. I was just sick of staring at the same old chapter, really. But I hope you like what's written so far. Feedback&Critique(even a simple "nice job/can't wait to see more" is enough to drive me to write more!) is much apprecated, thanks. Please look forward to the next chapter.

*Joe Brooks: student/well-dressed person


	4. Let's Ankle!

_Sorry for taking forever to update! I had some trouble with making the transitions between the events, and then how to end the chapter well. Anyway, I finally thought of it! :D Please R&E!

* * *

_

Huh,

Peter frowned, tasting the salt from his excessive sweat from sprinting at his maximum speed._ I'm getting a mild case of déjà vu. _Chasing him and two others was a thirteen-foot tall, forty-two-foot long Tyrannosaurus. Just what felt like hours ago, a velociraptor had been chasing the same unfortunate teen in a similar situation.

Capone, despite his age, was able to maintain Peter's speed; it was a long time past since, while running, the man had thrown his Tommy gun behind. He swore he was just imagining it, but Peter had a feeling that Capone was actually running at a controlled speed in order to continue alongside the younger male. Moses was already very muscular, so it was no surprise that he had no trouble outrunning the dinosaur with them.

Truth be told, the only reason they three were able to keep from ending in the dinosaur's jaws was because they were often ducking into smaller corridors, in which the beast found trouble maneuvering through. Luckily the sight of the dinosaur was enough to break up some of the fighting, and made way for the three to run. At times the trio would find that they had been running in circles, but as long as it was someplace away from the beast, they were content with that.

After a tiring night of being kidnapped and running around the various buildings of the Smithsonian, Peter was devoid of energy, and was now facing the consequences as he felt a wave of nausea hit him.

He grimaced and tripped, his companions stopping short when he did. The boy got up unsteadily, but the T-rex was already dangerously close, and as it approached, looked as if it was grinning.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and quietly awaited the painful death that was about to come to him. A gunshot rang through the air, and the young male heard a pain-filled roar behind him. He was pulled away, and upon opening his eyes, saw it was by Moses.

Peter glanced back in time to see the dinosaur stumble from the shot, and Capone running, holding his hat in one hand and keeping his pistol aimed at the dinosaur with the other.

"Go on, screw!" Capone had yelled to the younger male, firing another shot. Peter paused, failing to understand the meaning of his old-fashioned slang. "Move already, _MOVE!_" Peter then noticed he had stopped running, then turning around and following Moses into the next room.

But in there awaited a group of men, who, with a cursory glance, seemed to be a firing squad, ready to shoot. With no time to yell words of warning, Peter tackled Moses to the right, diving behind a pedestal that once displayed an exhibit.

Capone ran in and passed the two, despite Peter's frantic signaling to hide with them, and the dinosaur crashed through the entryway, still stumbling, and had also not noticed the two. They ran ahead, and out of sight. The two behind the pedestal could do nothing more than wait.

Bullets were fired, and it sounded like firecrackers were going off. Some made their way into the wall beside the hiding spot, others clearly reached their target. For several seconds nothing was heard but the sounds of multiple guns being shot. _Bang, bang, bang, bang…_

* * *

Peter slowly, hesitantly, peeked over the pedestal. He was certain he'd already been discovered, anyway. If Al really was… gone, there wasn't much hope for him to overcome the group of men with firearms. But no one was looking in his direction, ready to blast a bullet into his face. Instead, a dead Tyrannosaurus lay lifeless on the floor. Peter winced a bit at that sight. A bit further from the body…

Capone was alive. Alive! A tingling sense ran from Peter's head to his toes. He hadn't felt such a huge relief in a long time. The racketeer was standing amongst and talking to the men that fired, who were actually _his_ men, something Peter had failed to notice as he'd been rushing into the room. With relief, he and Moses approached the group of men wearily; the long run had used up the rest of his energy. As they approached, Peter caught several bits of the conversation:

"…t we heard, anyhow."

"Alright, Nitti. It's settled then!" announced Capone.

"What is settled?" Moses asked, curious. Capone grinned.

"There's a big brawl down at Air and Space, some major action going on down there. That Moscow fella is there, and some of your friends," he explained. "I don't want you to get mixed up with fighting. It's a messy job." The man looked Peter square in the eyes, dead serious. "So you'll be safe once you meet up with your boys again."

As much as Peter wanted to agree and just go home, he shook his head.

"I'm already too far in to be dragged out now—don't even think about it until this is all over!" Peter said, surprised at his own words. But it was true; he felt a great responsibility now. He felt urged to protect the exhibits that were affected by their abrupt awakening, ever since he'd heard the stories of what had happened to Winona and Moses.

He looked to Moses, whose eyes seemed unsure, but had, with a firm jaw, nodded. The two who were initially unwilling to take action were now willing to become a part of it all and join the fight.

Capone looked a bit troubled by this, but he could identify the look that Peter gave him with no trouble. Although hesitantly, he just replied with:

"It's going to be hell out there, y'know? So level with me: you _sure_?" Peter hadn't the faintest idea what it meant to level with him, but he nodded. He could at least understand that last question, Moses nodded as well. Capone understood and then turned, smiling to his men.

"Let's get goin', boys!" The men cheered and some whistled.

The ground rumbled, thousands of footsteps rumbled through the ground, it sounded as if an army was approaching. What came through the doors was not an army, but it was close.

When the sound of rumbling reached its height, animals of a wide range of species charged their way into the room, apparently at the sound of the whistling. An elephant stood above several other animals, Peter noticed the lion pride that had attacked the dinosaur was amongst them. Some of the other animals consisted of tigers, an ox, jaguar, and an eagle, which was perched on the ox's horn.

Seeing his incredulous look, Capone put a hand on Peter's shoulder, looking amused.

"They're our men… kind of. These boys are loyal, too," he'd said with a laugh. "And they're great in a pinch." Peter could understand; he'd seen those lions in action, and they seemed pretty vicious—it was good to know they were his allies.

"Here," Capone lifted Peter and plopped him onto the ox. "He's a smooth ride." The eagle flapped its wings, as if waving a welcome to him. Peter smiled and held on tight as Capone began explaining some more things to his men, Moses, and him. One of his men pushed open a door leading to outside, a cold wind blowing in as he did.

"From this point on, we'll have to be quiet. We'll be out in the open, and it's dark out there. We can't afford to give away our location to potential threats," Capone explained as he took the first step out. "And that means no firing the choppers while we're out there, y'hear me, boys? Then, let's ankle!"

The group followed him out, treading softly, and moving at a steady pace. It certainly was dark outside; the only thing that offered light was that of the surrounding buildings and the occasional lamp post. It was hard to see anything—only the faint outlines were visible.

After several minutes of walking—the destination was pretty far away—they were passing by the water, and the eagle suddenly snapped its head to the right. Peter looked to the right as well, seeing something moving. It was a very small motion, but seemed to grow—someone was approaching, and, listening with care, Peter could hear the faint sounds of hoof beats.

"Boss!" one of the men hissed. Apparently Peter wasn't the only one to have heard it. "To the right!" By now, the entire group has stopped and was focusing on the moving objects. When they were closer, it could be seen that the people approaching on horseback were Native American, and with rifles slung around their shoulders. Peter looked toward Moses. "Maybe they're friends of Winona?" Moses narrowed his eyes.

"No, they dress differently. I do not think they are of the same tribe. Perhaps they are even hostile."

"If they are, then they better not shoot their rifles," one of his men said, the one named Nitti. The men on horseback came closer, and one raised his rifle, ready to fire. Immediately, one of the lions rushed forward, sinking its teeth into the horse's neck. The other man saw this and panicked, pulled out his gun and started firing at the lion—the shots virtually echoed.

A huge… _something_ whipped out of the water and grabbed the one who fired, pulling it down under. The man's companion, who had fell off his horse and was now on the ground, began yelling. Other arm-like things similar to it, which Peter could now identify as tentacles, came from out of the water and grabbed onto the land, pulling its body up onto the grass. The men began yelling and some, heedless of what Capone had said earlier, pulled out their guns and began firing. The animals also started acting up, the ox Peter was riding bellowed loudly and started running in the opposite direction.

Not wanting to risk falling and breaking his back, Peter held on tight to the rampaging animal. He looked back at the octopus and the group. By now, most of the men had gotten away, all running in different directions. Peter was separated yet again, until he looked to his right, surprised to notice Moses riding a tiger alongside him.

_So where__ to now? _Peter thought. Straining his ears, he heard loud crashes and the scrambled sounds of talking from one of the nearby buildings. Luckily, it was well lit, too, so he could easily make his way there. _Follow the fight, and there, my friends'll be waiting for me…_ Weird, wasn't fighting always what adults to kids avoid?

* * *

_I hope you liked it, I'm not too sure how I felt about this chapter. The next one (probably) will have much more fighting! :) More reunions, probably. Midterms coming up, so I'll be busy, but I'll do my best so you guys can read more soon! Explanations below, just in case:_

_*screw: scram, move it, etc._

_*Nitti: Capone's 2nd in command_

_*ankle: get moving, go on their way_


End file.
